


Subject D-171

by knightinpinkunderwear



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, Anal Probing, Anal Sex, Arkham Asylum, Blow Jobs, Cameras, Cock Slapping, Cock Slut, Cock Worship, Come Eating, Come Marking, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Creampie, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Dubious Science, Exhibitionism, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Fisting, Gangbang, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mad Science, Masturbation, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Nude Photos, Oral Sex, Orgy, Pictures, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Slut Shaming, Unsafe Sex, Video Cameras, Voyeurism, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-01-25 19:04:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18580705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinpinkunderwear/pseuds/knightinpinkunderwear
Summary: Uh...sex?Make sure you read all tags. This is a risky nsfw fic.





	Subject D-171

**Author's Note:**

> I'm serious, read all tags.

First patient D-171 (Edward Nygma) was ignored, to see how his seemingly egotistical nature dealt with the loss of serious attention.

In a month he was on almost amicable terms with most of the inmates in his block. Rudy, Norton, Helzinger, and Sharon. He got little of their attention but when he did they were giving him something else, affection, companionship. 

Despite what the man said about not wanting to associate with insane people (though, legally, he was one of them) he seemed all to happy to soak up the positive socialization. He didn't want praise to feel superior it seemed, no, subject Edward Nygma wanted praise to feel valued, _wanted_.

Curious.  

Strange wondered if platonic affection and intimacy was the only thing poor Mr. Nygma was starved for. It didn't matter that this experiment was hardly legal, neither were the rest of them. But that was why he loved working under the jurisdiction of the Court. Those little ethical and moral principles could be forgotten, science and discovery his only consideration. 

It started with easily formulated hormone treatment hidden with the other medication D-171 was required to take. The effects crept in, obvious from the beginning, more flushed than usual, fidgeting in place, inability to stay still, and finally; masturbation.

Strange had placed a discrete camera in the man's cell before he'd arrived, the subject's intelligence had made the workings for an interesting new side project even before he'd settled on a method of approach. 

D-171 had intercourse with a guard first, a guard who'd been given a hint that he'd be pliant with such advances.

It was thirteen days after the first dosage, soon it would be upped, replacing another of the placebo medication that this particular inmate had been receiving. Of course Mr. Nygma had been resistant, but fortunately the staff and security hired to assist him didn't much care for the inmates privacy or personal opinions. Nygma was moaning and enjoying it soon enough. 

When his dose was increased the second time Nygma didn't make it through even three days, only to the mid-morning weekly showers with Helzinger. Watching from his office it was plain to see his hypothesis had been correct; Nygma had only needed a small push to seek out sexual socialization. Now he could really start the fun. 

How far could D-171 be pushed? 

Guards and other male staff were instructed not to fuck Nygma nicely. Not let him give a blowjob until he'd taken the medication that was making him so desperate in the first place. 

Ethyl didn't understand the experiment, but it wasn't in her jurisdiction to put a halt to it. She could place D-171 in a cell with Stirk if he misbehaved, but mostly her duties were downstairs, at Indian Hill. 

D-171 became depraved, little by little, allowing and encouraging more mistreatment. His uniform would light up like a Jackson Pollock painting under a blacklight. 

Guards would pull him aside while escorting him to meals, tug him along into the guard's lounge, push his pants down to his ankles and pass him around. One by one, fucking him like one would a sex doll.

If he made it to a meal, it was unkempt, hair every which way, uniform sticking in places and body still covered in and full of ejaculation. 

D-171 didn't stop Norton from licking or biting him anymore, instead shivering when it happened. Sharon ignored him and was assigned a new meal schedule. Rudy made obscene comments, blaming his other personalities. And Hellzinger fucked him every shower day, holding him against the shower wall by the back of his neck and clumsily pounding away. 

This day was no different. 

At 7:30 Nygma took the concoction of pills. 

"You don't get cock until you take your meds," was the simple reminder today's guard gave D-171, who was already on his knees. He swallowed the pills dry, and reached for the zippered fly. In no time his face was pressed against the guard's groin, cock stuffed in his mouth. 

Hugo's cock twitched, it wanted to feel those lips around it. 

Nygma's head was held harshly in place by fists in his hair, it was growing to a better length to tug at. Again and again heavy balls slapped at his chin, the length no doubt pressing into his throat.

That was one thing that really made D-171 flush, a cock in his throat, gagging and choking around it.

He was rubbing his thighs together, eager for what the day would bring. 

Nygma swallowed down cum like an eager puppy. The tent in his uniform pants easy to see. The guard thrust forward again and stopped, keeping his dick where it was, deep in Nygma's throat with the subject's nose pressed against his pubic hair. Nygma's whines could be heard clearly, despite the dick in his mouth. The guard relented, pulling back enough so only the tip was still enveloped in those pink, abused lips. 

It started again, his head held in place as the same guard pounded his throat mercilessly, it was far less gentle that the first face fuck. This time he came on Nygma's face; on his parted lips, in his hair, across his cheeks. He then pushed the inmate back. 

D-171 fell, lying on his back with cum staining his face, a look of dazed awe, little sticky drips of ejaculate clinging to his eyelashes. The guard left and Nygma coughed, bringing one hand to his throat and shoving the other down his pants. Jacking his own cock while he choked himself, lying in the middle of the floor of his cell, in perfect view of one camera. (Since the beginning of the experiment more had been added.)

At 7:55 another guard came to escort Nygma to breakfast. But first he'd have a little detour in the guards' lounge (which also, of course had several hidden cameras from which Hugo could comfortably watch). Quickly he was stripped down to nothing, not even allowed socks, shoes, or glasses. 

He was first pushed onto the coffee table, on his knees; face down, ass up. The first guard mounted him like a mutt would a bitch in heat. 

Nygma was immediately vocalizing; whining, moaning, and best of all: begging. 

"M- _more_! More _please_!-unh-" another guard approached his face, grabbing a fist-full of hair and tugging his head back with it. The slut hadn't even bothered to wash off his first dousing of cum. He was released, head falling back to its previous position, flushed red cheek pressed firmly against the smooth surface of the coffee table, rubbing back and forth as the first guard's thrusts pushed him. 

Hugo smiled, fly open with one hand casually stroking his cock, this was one of the most fun experiments of his to observe. 

The first guard finished in D-171 and the next took up where he left off. Clutching at narrow hips with a bruising grip and fucking the inmate like an animal. 

Nygma whines and begs for more. No one silences him. Instead one jerks off to it, letting ropes of cum paint the side of his face that isn't against the table. More of it in his hair. 

Most of the other guards are smarter, only pulling at their cocks enough to keep them hard, waiting out their turn in his ass. 

Nygma has his first orgasm, he's fucked through it, almost as if it didn't happen. The second guard finishes in him, keeping still flush against his backside, as far inside D-171 as he can be. He pulls out and a little bit of cum tries to escape. 

It's pushed back in by a third guard, who doesn't stop with that, pushing three fingers in, insistent. The fingers separate, stretching Nygma's used hole around virtually nothing. A fourth finger is added and Nygma jerks on the table, moaning helplessly. 

He's at their mercy for his pleasure. 

The guard has his whole fist inside D-171 within the minute, not pressing past the wrist. Nygma is covered in sweat, thighs trembling, body flushed a desperate pink. The guard must be stretching out his fingers, moving them in some unseen way, deep inside his subject. Nygma sobs.

The fist is removed, replaced with a hard cock, not stretching the slut as much, but pounding relentlessly against his prostate.  

The fourth guard is impatient and uncreative, fucking Nygma like a clumsy rabbit. Hugo scoffs, not everyone can provide for interesting scenarios, especially not when ruled by their libido. 

Nygma doesn't seem to care though, acting as if any cock inside him was _exactly_ what he needed.  

The fifth spanks the subject, beating his ass cheeks beat red before he too mounted and fucked Nygma into oblivion. 

By the seventh D-171 had all but passed out, his ass only kept up by the rough hands pulling it back onto a dick. The second his hips were released his knees collapsed out from under him, only to be pushed back into place by the next guard in line. His moans were pathetic little sounds, still crying for more. 

Thirteen guards in total. 

When the last was finished some of the earlier ones maneuvered Nygma's body, holding him in position while one snapped pictures of his anus, red, abused, cum sticky and thick on it and trying to escape from it. 

One guard looked at his watch, whistled.

"Looks like it's too late for breakfast," 

"Guess we'll have to feed him something else," another guard chimed in. 

At 10:23 Nygma finished his "breakfast" of 13 loads of semen.

The guards left him there, naked and shivering on the table, partaking in casual gossip as their mixed cum stickily dripped from his hole and he panted through cum-stained lips. 

Hugo's cock ached.

It was 11:00 on the dot when Hugo gave the order. Two guards roughly dressed Nygma, pulling his pants up despite the ejaculate dripping down the insides of his thighs. He's escorted to Hugo's office on wobbly legs. 

"Mr. Nygma," Hugo started, smiling, quite aware that his grin more resembled that of a predator. "You seem to be quite active these past few weeks," his only reply is the fidgeting, D-171 is rubbing himself on the seat, rubbing his thighs together, no doubt sore and sticky from his morning activities. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," 

"Oh, on the contrary, Mr. Nygma I believe you do." Hugo didn't miss the shudder run up Nygma's spine as he approached. "I believe you need a new diagnosis;" he said, locking the door beside the inmate. "Hypersexuality." He stared down at Nygma, who fidgeted more under his stare, no doubt painfully aware of how much semen was in and on him. "Though, the diagnosis won't be official for another five months, until then I'll just have to refer to your condition as a _cock-slut_." 

Nygma twitched, face flushed, his hair awful and sticky with drying ejaculate. Pupils blown wide. _Perfect_. 

Nygma's hole was warm and smooth, lubed up from a dozen or more loads of cum still partially stuck inside him. It clenched around him tightly despite the pounding and stretching it received on a regular basis. Nygma was naked, bent over Hugo's desk. Hugo went slow, enjoying the long, smooth drag. He thought of all the miniature experiments that could be done with this, all the wonderful data Nygma could be milked for. It certainly worked as a good stress relief after his many failed trials in re-animation.

At 18:30 he guards arranged, with Hugo's permission, another play session with their beloved fuck-toy, D-171. It officially started at 19:00. 

Nygma was blind folded and gagged with two cheep ties. Then stripped and pushed down to sit fully on one guard's cock, bare back to his clothed front. That guard then took hold of Nygma's knees by the undersides, pulling them apart and up before standing. Another guard approached from the front, pushing his fingers into the sloppy and already stuffed hole to stretch it further. 

A muffled whine could be heard through the gag. Nygma's body was pink and trembling. 

After a minute or so of stretching the second guard pushed his cock into the hole. Both guards groaned. The pace was desperate, like an animal trying in ensure its genetic legacy. 

After the first two were done with him they pulled out dropping D-171 to his hands and knees on the coffee table, the next to mounted his ass and mouth, pulling the gag out of the way to stuff that hole with cock as well. 

The next two refused to fill him up no matter how much he begged, sitting on the floor in a pool of the cum leaking out of him. One jacked off while rubbing his cock against the inmates nipples, which now seemed to be incredibly sensitive. The other waited, kneeling behind D-171 to drag the head of his cock against Nygma's lower back, cumming on the top of his round ass while the other sprayed his chest. 

By the end of the evening Nygma was laying on the floor, content as the guards jerked off above him, the spray of semen covering almost every inch of his front.

Every day the guards, fellow inmates, and Hugo Strange himself used Nygma for stress relief. He was such a good cock-sucker, and remarkably good at taking any type or amount of cock, desperate for a good cock to stuff him full or at the very least, Mark him with its load. 

Subject D-171 was a wonderful long term experiment, but unfortunately, it had to be abandoned with the rest of them after the GCPD got too nosy about his operations. 

Such a shame. 

Though, a few months later he did hear that the Penguin was getting rather nice use out of it. It seemed that Nygma no longer needed the extra push to pursue cock. 

 

  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hugo Strange is messed up, so is my imagination.


End file.
